


Splitting Seams

by warsfeil



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warsfeil/pseuds/warsfeil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's something, to have Akashi underneath him like this. Something tangible. Mayuzumi is fond of it -- thinks he'd he'd like to repeat it on a regular basis, and that's what keeps his hand still and slow and cautious.</p><p>Warnings for bloodplay/gore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splitting Seams

It's something, to have Akashi underneath him like this. Something tangible. Mayuzumi is fond of it -- thinks he'd he'd like to repeat it on a regular basis, and that's what keeps his hand still and slow and cautious. 

Akashi arcs up as high as he can go, metal clinking as his hands jerk against the bed frame and his eyes fly open wide. Mayuzumi drags the knife down in a careful sweep, watching the blood blossom between the split skin, coalesce up and then split off into beads to run down his ribcage. His sheets were red, bright and searing, and Mayuzumi could only tell where the blood was as it started to dry.

Like this, Akashi is reachable. Fallible. He screams behind the gag and doesn't contain any of his wildness, letting out every muffled noise and shifting up with every cut. (They'd considered using a dull knife. A cold butter knife, producing almost the same sensations -- but Akashi looked at him and said, "If there's no consequences, it doesn't count as a loss." and Mayuzumi wanted to make sure that he painted failure across Akashi's body in whatever state of permanence he could achieve. Rip off his wings and paint him like the rest of them; bloody and violable.)

He slides the flat of the knife against Akashi's cheek, and Akashi looks at him with the same unflinching eye contact he does everything with. He might be panting, chest heaving with the exertion, the adrenaline and the pain, but he's still a king, even if he rules over a kingdom of nothing but ghosts. Mayuzumi flicks the tip of the knife against the cheap fabric gag and peels it away from Akashi's mouth, watching Akashi's tongue flick out to moisten his lips.

"Is it better when you can hear me?" Akashi asks, when his mouth cooperates, every word clear like his breath wasn't coming in heaving gasps. 

"Everyone should hear you," Mayuzumi says, and he presses a finger into the cut underneath Akashi's collarbone, separates layers of skin until Akashi is screaming again, loud enough that every single servant in his house will be able to hear the sound of his desecration.

Akashi doesn't beg, and Mayuzumi doesn't expect him to. His gaze is still clear, even as his body spasms, even as his hips involuntarily quake upwards, his erection hard and present and entirely neglected. Mayuzumi intends to keep it that way. It's too nice of a picture to waste. It should be on the cover of a light novel -- _The Senpai Complex_ , or _The Disillusion of Failure_. Mayuzumi would buy six copies and distribute them out on the street.

"Enjoy this," Akashi says, and a flash of irritation cross Mayuzumi's face. He ungagged him to hear him scream, not to hear his words. "I won't fail more than once."

Mayuzumi considers him, naked and bloody and in such thorough disarray that if he was anyone else, Mayuzumi would doubt his ability to put himself back together again.

"Maybe not," Mayuzumi says, conversationally, because it's true that Akashi is a fire that never entirely goes out. He lives to consume everyone around him and burn through the opposition, but Mayuzumi was never content to just be smoke. "But you already fell." Just like Mayuzumi did, in his own way, drawn in by the chaos of Akashi Seijuurou and enveloped inside the whirlwind of wins and confidence.

"I'll recover," Akashi says, and he's talking about much, much more than the cuts.

Mayuzumi presses down again, adds another line across Akashi's abdomen, deep enough that the skin splits away and the blood comes out in rivers instead of streams.

"Yes," Mayuzumi agrees, "but you'll never be the same."

**Author's Note:**

> written for otp battle ob basketballpoetsociety over on tumblr! we had a mayuaka day and while ultimately it came nowhere near the top ship contenders, we got a lot of great shippy things from it.


End file.
